


What He Didn't Say

by Melanie_Athene



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, Humor, M/M, Season 7 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-24
Updated: 2012-05-24
Packaged: 2017-11-05 23:19:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/412122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melanie_Athene/pseuds/Melanie_Athene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What Dean didn't – couldn't – tell Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What He Didn't Say

**Author's Note:**

> Although this fic contains a spoiler for 7x23, I have not yet seen this episode much beyond the three lines of dialogue quoted at the beginning of the fic. So I have no idea if it fits in with the rest of the episode or not. I just saw an opportunity to write a little porn – hey, that's just the way my brain works.
> 
> Warning: If you have Entomophobia, or more specifically Apiphobia, you might want to give this fic a pass. Bee warned. And don't try this at home. : )

_“We can call Castiel again.”_

_“Dude, on my car, he showed up naked. Covered in bees.”_

_“Yeah, I'm really sorry I missed that.”_

 

Dean reached for the radio and fiddled with the dial, pretending interest in the inane chatter – about, who else, their good ol' buddy Dick Roman – which obligingly filled the car, distracting Sam from any further discussion regarding a certain looney-tunes angel.

What he didn't say, what he could scarcely bear to admit to himself, was that a naked, bee-covered Castiel had been a pretty freaking awesome sight. Not that there was much to see when Castiel first answered his call and appeared in the field behind the derelict house where they'd crashed for the night: just a man-shaped (angel-shaped?) figure; a swarming mass of bees several layers thick, wings fluttering, bodies crawling over and under and around each other in a constant swirl of motion. It wasn't until the bulky figure slowly shuffled forward, and a veil of bees parted to reveal the face beneath, that Dean was sure it was Castiel and not some new, weird-ass kind of bee monster. That Castiel was naked beneath his bee suit was soon made apparent by brief glimpses of bare skin that came and went as the insects shifted to accommodate his movements: a shoulder here, a shin or elbow there, a surprisingly well muscled thigh...

 _What the hell, Cas?_ was what Dean meant to say. Or, possibly, _Where's your damned trench coat?_ What popped out of his mouth, however, was a genuinely curious: “Doesn't that tickle?”

Castiel blinked, his head tilting to one side as he pondered the question. “Yes,” he replied, after a long period of silence in which Dean wasn't sure if he was going to bother answering at all. “It... tickles. It is also strangely... stimulating.”

 _Don't look, don't look, don't look!_ Dean chanted to himself. Unfortunately, he wasn't good at following advice, not even his own. Inevitably his gaze dropped down.... down... And, yes, a new shape was definitely taking form under the mass of bees. A long, thick cylinder, its girth exaggerated no doubt by the presence of the bees that stroked and teased it but, nonetheless, hinting at an impressive understructure as it continued to swell and rise and – 

“Oh, fuck,” Dean moaned. “No. No, no, no. Make it go away!”

But the column continued to protrude, the bees in its vicinity fluttering faster, shifting and parting in agitated waves until, abruptly, a glistening pink tip was revealed, a single drop of – _God, please let that be honey!_ – delicately poised to drip to the ground.

“Hmm,” Castiel said in a bemused tone far more suited to commenting on a change in the weather, rather than acknowledging a raging boner. “That's new. Different. I think I like it. Dean, would you care to – ”

“No.”

“I really think you should try – ”

“No!”

“But, Dean, it's quite extraordinary. Exhilarating.”

“I'm sure it is, Cas. But, um, it's wrong to come between a man and his bees. I'll just leave you to your... uh...” Dean's hand flailed helplessly. “Your whatever this is.”

“Oh, but the bees don't mind sharing. They're communal, as you know. It comes naturally to them. I don't mind sharing either. After all, it is something that must be experienced to be fully appreciated.”

“No, really, that's okay, Cas. I'll just... heh... leave you be.” 

Dean took a cautious step backwards. Castiel countered with two steps forward.

“Are you afraid of the bees, Dean? They won't hurt you. I won't let them.”

“It's not the bees that have me worried.”

_Oh, God... Did I just say that aloud?_

Castiel stopped dead in his tracks, dark clouds shading the clear blue of his eyes. “Oh,” he said in a small voice, his bee pillar wilting slightly. “I see. You don't trust me. Of course. That makes sense given our recent history.”

“No, Cas!” Dean blurted, unthinkingly shooting out a hand to grab Castiel's arm. He froze, his fingers scant inches from the almost forgotten bees. “That's not it,” he whispered, his eyes begging the angel's understanding. _I don't trust me. Not when you're like this. Not when I want you, and you don't have a fucking clue as to what you're doing to me. The way you make me feel..._

Further argument was rendered academic as a portion of the bees abruptly swarmed, bridging the distance between Castiel and Dean's outstretched hand and swiftly spreading up the human's arm, wending their way around his chest, down his legs, up his neck...

“Cas?” Dean squeaked.

“Don't move, Dean,” Castiel ordered. Disregarding his own stern counsel, he stepped closer, reaching out until Dean was wrapped not only in bees, but also a pair of strong arms. “Do you feel the bees?” he murmured. “The thrum of their wings, like a beating heart, their whisper-light touch...”

“Uh... kind of?”

“Clothing mitigates the effect.” Castiel tilted his head consideringly. “If you wish... I could...”

“Yes,” Dean said, his gaze never leaving the angel's.

And just like that his clothes were gone, the whisper-tickle of hundreds of wings and thousands of tiny feet caressing his skin, an answering purr of contentment unexpectedly rumbling deep in his throat.

Soon, only Dean's face and the warm band where Castiel's arms held him were left untouched by the bees.

It tickled.

It was, indeed, strangely stimulating.

Dean didn't have to glance down to know he was developing a sizeable column of his own.

He didn't stop to worry about bee stings when he leaned forward and brushed his mouth against Castiel's.

He did briefly wonder if Castiel's lips had always tasted of honey, but the indescribable flavour as he licked his way deeper inside the angel's mouth quickly drove the question from his mind. In fact, he stopped thinking altogether, not noticing when the bees wisely slipped aside until the angel and the human stood pressed together, naked flesh against naked flesh, hidden from the world by a shroud of gently buzzing bees.

A gust of warm air bathed Dean's face as Castiel breathed out a happy sigh and nestled closer, his painfully engorged cock brushing against Dean's at a much improved angle.

Moaning in appreciation, Dean offered up a slew of deliciously sloppy kisses as he pumped his hips in rhythm with Castiel's, each rutting shamelessly against the other.

Bees, human and angel hummed their approval of the inevitable outcome.

When he had his breathing back under control, when his heart ceased threatening to explode from his chest, Dean slowly lifted his gaze up to meet two smiling blue eyes. Castiel's lips were also upturned in fond amusement, pink and swollen and...

 _Bee-stung,_ Dean thought giddily.

“No,” Castiel said softly, trailing a gentle fingertip across Dean's equally puffy lower lip. “Just well kissed. Like yours. I told you the bees wouldn't harm us.”

Dean's automatic “Cas, stay out of my head” was preempted by the rumble of an approaching car engine. Sam... returning with breakfast...

Castiel frowned and stepped away from Dean, the bees obediently following his retreat. Dean's clothing magically reappeared.

As if their encounter had never happened.

As if it would never happen again.

Dean lunged forward, reckless hands plunging past the bees coating Castiel's shoulders to grip the angel tight and draw him back into a desperate, hungry kiss.

 _One final miracle,_ he prayed, as Castiel's mouth instantly opened beneath his, warm and wet and welcoming; flavoured now with the salt of Dean's tears. _One final taste of Heaven before we fall into the dark..._

“If we fall,” Castiel whispered, “we fall together. The bees will catch us.” 

The familiar rustle of invisible wings accompanied the angel's departure.

Crazy or not, that was promise enough for Dean. He squared his shoulders and made his way inside to greet his brother.

The field was silent, save for the buzzing of a solitary bee.


End file.
